


SuperHuman

by 221Bombastic



Category: Orphan Black, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Multi, OB, Parentlock, clone club - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221Bombastic/pseuds/221Bombastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parentlock and Clone Club crossover. Welcome to the trip, man. </p><p>Sarah goes hunting for help in London. See how the Baker Street boys reactwhen she knocks on Mrs. Hudson's door. Sherlock and John get swept up in the drama of Clone Club, but will these three parents want to risk it all with their kids on the line?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I sort of just pretended the last episode of OB didn't happen because nope nope nope Helena is my bae and I love her. 
> 
> Also I know the times don't add up because technically Kira would be older than Hamish but shhhhh

 

He'd been just a boy then.

 

December 13. It was a chilly day, and Hamish was shut up inside the flat. His father was out on a case, but Papa had stayed. Father got anxious after being inside for so long. He said the light snow was covering footprints of the murderer in the latest case, and before John could protest had run out the door. His papa had sighed, resting a hand on their son's shoulder.

 

"Just you and me now, Hamish." He shook his head slightly; they both knew how Sherlock was. John would have liked to rush out right alongside him, the thrill of the chase filling him as he and his husband flagged down a murderer. Oh how he would love it. But they couldn't leave Hamish alone, not when he had his father's curiosity and tendency to get bored. John didn't want a repeat of the fire two years ago. Mrs. Hudson had fallen asleep after an herbal soother, and Hamish had nearly burned down the building. From his perch at the window, Hamish nodded. His eyes fervently scanned the street below, hoping for a sign of Sherlock's return. His eyes flicked towards movement in the middle of the street. A car had pulled up to the curb, and a dark haired woman stepped out. She was dressed in dark blue and gray, her thick boots clunking as she stepped out. From behind her she lowered a small girl to the floor. The little girl had golden curls, and bright eyes. Her pink dress was rumpled, as were her leggings. She looked intelligent enough, as far as children went, Hamish thought. Once he finished cataloguing their appearances, he began to deduce. The girl was his age, seven. The mother was in her twenties or thirties and, judging by the way she glanced around, she'd been to London before. Hamish judged though, that she was originally from Brixton. They had just gotten off a long flight, the girl was tired...they'd left early in the morning, somewhere in North America. Toronto?  Their clothes were wrinkled and their bags were sloppily packed, items brimming over the open tops. So they had left in a hurry. Why?

 

Hamish was distracted as the rumbling from the engine was cut and a tall, lanky man exited the driver seat. He loped over to the girls, twirling the keys around one finger. "Well," he asked in a disinterested, deep, yet slightly nasal voice. "Is this the old biddy's place?"

 

He couldn't hear the woman's response, the man was just habitually loud, but he read her lips. "Uh, yea..." she responded.”Looks like it, Fee." She patted her coat pocket, before turning to him. She was armed, then! Hamish smiled in excitement. What next!

 

John's brow furrowed. He had looked out the window at the people his son had been observing as well, and though he was not his husband, he was a soldier. John knew a weapon when he saw one. John placed a protective hand on his son's shoulder, a shiver running down his jumper-clothed spine. "C'mon, Hame. Let's go watch Doctor Who."

 

Hamish sighed, but relented. He took once last glance outside, meeting eyes with the small girl for a moment. Her gaze bore into his fearlessly, and her mouth twitched at the corners a tad, as though she wanted to smile at him but was wary. His eyes widened as he noticed something he had not before. There were cuts on her face, large scabs and bruises. One was bandaged by a white rectangle. It appeared to be a car accident but...he shook his head, breaking their contact, to clear his mind. No... _no_. Not possible...his deductions had told him that the impact of the car had been powerful. Too powerful, in fact, her trauma suggested that it had hit her hard enough to kill her. She shouldn't be standing there now, and yet...she was. His silence was scaring John, who dragged him to the couch, wishing Sherlock would come home. 

 

Yes, he was just a boy then...but he still remembered the first time he'd met Kira.

 


	2. Chapter One

Sarah marched up to the black door. 221B was embossed on the door in gold. Beneath them was a brass knocker, which Sarah grasped with a trembling hand. Mrs. S had directed her to this place, but she was still wary. She trusted no one, and this Emma Hudson seemed a bit shifty. Cosima had found that her husband was killed on trial, and that it was rumored that this Hudson woman somehow fixed it. She held back Kira, who she'd been overprotective of after the accident, when the door swung open.

                   

"Yes?" asked a frail old woman. She had chin length blonde-white hair and was wearing a purple dress suit and blouse. Her hands shook as she wrung them nervously and she peered up the stairs behind her. Sarah peered at her. Why would Mrs. S send her to this biddy? She had to be in her seventies! Sarah began to doubt her ability to help them.

 

"You Emma Hudson?" Sarah demanded, Felix coming up behind her to glare at the woman.

 

Mrs. Hudson answered her, her voice warbling slightly. "Ah, y-yes. Are you looking for Sherlock, love? Because usually you can just email him-" Sarah narrowed her eyes, cutting her off.  "What?"

 

"Who the bloody hell is...Sherlock?" trilled Felix. Hm, Sherlock seemed like a rather sexy name. 

 

"Sherlock Holmes? World's only consultant detective?" inquired Mrs. Hudson. Sarah became even more confused. "Oh...no then. Well, why don't you come in?" She held open the door and the three went inside.

 

John dashed down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to straighten his jumper. He raised himself to his full height, puffing out his chest. He placed his hands on his hips and stared down the strangers. "Who are you and why are you in our home? And take that damn pistol out of your pocket before I shoot you with my Browning!"

 

Mrs. Hudson started at the mention of guns. Sarah pursed her lips. "Oi! Stay outta it! This isn't your business. I'm here for Hudson." Hamish was crouched at the top of the stairs, observing. The man was very interesting.

 

At that moment the door burst open and Sherlock himself waltzed in. He shrugged off his trench coat and scarf, brushing off small snowflakes. "What's this?" he asked in a deep baritone. Felix's mouth fell open and he practically began to drool. That _voice_. Those _cheekbones_. Those wonderful _ever-changing eyes_. Good God, Felix was in love.

 

"Father?" a small voice piped up from the landing. "Why is the funny man staring at you like Papa does? His body language says he wants to have sex with you like Sally's does when she sees Anderson." Hamish mumbled. Everyone stilled in shock, and Felix's mouth dropped open.

 

 

"You filthy little liar!" he cried in an offended tone. Sherlock was astounded, but none the less he had to be proud of his son. "He's correct though, your embarrassed eye twitch tells me everything." He smirked at the man. "So who are our friends, Mrs. Hudson?"

 

Flustered, his landlady stammered, "Uh...they haven't said, Sherlock."

 

The detective raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Sarah, prompting her to speak, and John shoved past them to Sherlock. He grabbed his arm possessively, glowering at Felix. "Where have you been?" he huffed. "No wait--don't tell me I'll deal with you later. Right now we have more pressing issues," He aimed a pointed stare at Sarah and Mrs. Hudson. "Like whom you are and why one of you is lusting after my husband." John snapped.

 

Sarah giggled in spite of herself. "We're here to talk to your landlady, yea? Mrs. S sent us." Sherlock watched as the elderly woman's face paled and she eyed Sarah with recognition. "Sarah? Little Sarah Manning?" she cried.

 

The punk nodded. Mrs. Hudson broke into a grin. "Oh Lord! That means this is FEE!" She suddenly crushed Felix in a hug, jumping up and down with glee. "Felix! My, my just look at you!" She held him at arm’s length, looking him up and down. "You're so thin...and Sarah! You look beautiful, love. Who's this?" she added, bending down to cup the little girl's cheek.

 

"My daughter. Kira." Sarah said proudly, running a hand through Kira's hair. "We came here because Mrs. S said you could help. Things are...not safe anymore in Toronto. People are after me and Kira and the cops started sniffing around," Mrs. Hudson nodded knowingly at this. "See, 'cause we found out that I'm not an orphan. Foster kid yea, but it was to protect me. That's why I was a kid in the black. Thought maybe we could start over here, for a while, and find out some more about my origins. It’s imperative."

 

Mrs. Hudson started fusing over them. "Of course, of course anything for Siobhan. Although if it’s the police you're hiding from, you might have a problem. The boys here practically live at Scotland Yard, what with their cases and all for DI Lestrade." She seemed to remember the two were there and jumped up. "Oh! Where are my manners? Sherlock, John, this is Sarah Manning and her brother, Felix. They're the foster kids of a good friend of mine." she turned to the strangers. "Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Consultant detective and ex-army doctor turned blogger." Hamish had crept silently down the stairs and seemed to materialize next to Kira, making everyone jump in the dimly lit hall. "And this is their son, Hamish Watson-Holmes." 

 

Hamish fidgeted under their gaze. He locked eyes once again with Kira, who smirked at him. "What happened to you?" he asked.

 

John shook him. "Hamish! That is not a polite thing to ask!" His reprimand was interrupted by Kira’s small voice.

 

"Car accident...it hit me while I was crossing the street." she admitted shyly.

 

Hamish scoffed, thought not unkindly. "Obvious. I mean, what happened that saved you. Judging by your injuries you shouldn't have lived, what with the speed of the car went it slammed into you. So tell me, Kira, why you're still alive." The room fell silent again, and Felix coughed loudly. Sherlock quirked his brow, intrigued by what he was reading off these strange people.

 

Kira pursed her lips, slipping into a grim facial expression. She turned to her mother with confused eyes. "Mummy, what does he mean?"

 

Sarah faltered. "Uh, monkey...he must know a lot about car crashes, yea? I'm sure he just means to say you’re very lucky." She scooped up the girl and took her into Mrs. Hudson's flat. Felix followed with a longing lock at Holmes' arse, receiving a withering look from the good doctor. Their landlady fled in after them, and John shooed Hamish upstairs for bed. Sarah walked back out into the entryway, grabbing the collar of Sherlock's deep purple button down.  "Oi! What'd your kid mean by that? Can't he hold his tongue? Right scared the shit outta Kira! Where do you get off thinking that's okay?" she thundered.

 

Blatantly ignoring her slanderous words against his offspring, Sherlock spoke in his low baritone. "Ms. Manning, what's your secret? What are you hiding? Oh, don't be like that." he said to her shocked face. "I'd assume even you would know about my deductive abilities. No? Hm, pity. Well, put simply I am able to read you and your family like open books so there's no use hiding things from me. I’m curious to know and you're going to tell me because I'll find out eventually, Sarah, what is your secret? You're hiding something; in fact you're trying to run away from it. Something...with science, is it? You're worried about someone...too. Someone in your life is sick. Your sister, and you need answers to help her, the question is who can give you to them. That not the main reason you've returned to England though, there's something else besides your sister, and obviously, the safety of your daughter, something personal involving your past. What is it?"

 

"You're wrong." Sarah said, choosing her words carefully. Something this clever obviously would be an asset to them, and Mrs. Hudson obviously trusted them. And the other man, he was a doctor. Perhaps the two of them together could run tests for Cosima. Delphine texted Sarah every hour it seemed about the amounts of blood being coughed up by Cos. She was sick, like the German and they were running out of time. Rachel and Leekie were after them as well as Art and the police force, who still idiotically thought she had killed Beth and Katja. Okay, time to drop the bomb. "Cosima isn't my sister...she's my clone." She waited for him to stagger in disbelief, or slap her. She waited for him to turn pale in horror and deny it. At least tell her she was joking and slam the door in her face. But he didn't, surprisingly Sherlock smirked at her.

 

"I knew they'd do it someday." he muttered, before winking and striding up stairs. "Good night, Sarah!" he called over his shoulder, shutting his door with a click. Sarah heave a sigh of relief, then grinned up his flat. Obviously this would be different, and these three boys were definitely members of Clone Club now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So im going to continue this. Like, share, comment, follow. PLEASE COMMENT ANY IDEAS OR CHANGES IM TOTALLY OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UM...THIS IS SORT OF JUST PURE JOHNLOCK ANGST/FLUFF ITS REALLY JUST HERE FOR FUN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY CROFT I AM SO SORRY TO ANYONE WHO ACTUALLY READ THIS FIC! I HAVE BEEN SO BUSY WITH SCHOOL I HAVEN'T HAD ANY TIME TO UPDATE ANYTHING AND I'M SO SORRY BUT THEN SEASON THREE CAME OUT FOR SHERLOCK AND GAHHHHHHHHHHHH SIGN OF THREE COMPLICATED EVERYTHING ABOUT PARENTLOCK AND THEN SEASON TWO IS HERE AND OMG CAL HOW DO I WORK IN CAL I USED TO SHIP SARAH WITH PAUL AND NOW OMG UGH CAL. AND THEN HELENA MY BAE OMG LOOKS LIKE SHE CAN BE IN THIS AFTER ALL! AS RUPAUL WOULD SAY, HALLELU!

 

 

Sherlock dashed up the stairs eagerly, pausing only to tiptoe quietly past Hamish’s room in case the boy was asleep, as it was growing late. Ideas and questions and analyses were running through his mind at a profound speed, almost tumbling over one another in an attempt to gain his attention for a moment. Brow wrinkling, he decided to focus on the easiest one: that the punk man from Brixton was obviously gay, and even more obviously attracted to him. But Sherlock didn’t understand why. Did he really have an erotic voice, or eyes, or…and this one seemed absurd to him, _cheekbones_? An addition, the man had gazed for quite some time at his arse as he exited. It wasn’t that strange for people to find him attractive, but this man seemed to be enthralled. It disturbed him greatly.

                      

            He stepped into their room, careful to avoid stepping on the fifth, eleventh, and twenty-sixth floorboards in the dark, as they squeaked when pressure was applied to them, which he knew disrupted John’s sleeping patterns. He could make out his husband now, tucked into their bed with nothing but a ratty throw blanket half-heartedly covering the jumper and jeans he had not bothered to change out of. Sherlock wet his lips anxiously, and then cleared his throat as silently as possible. John’s moods still made him nervous sometimes, even though as he had come to understand emotions in greater detail, his lover’s had become as easy to read as Calculus on a maths exam.

 

“Love, are you awake?” He said, his low voice shattering the fragile silence in the room. He flinched, waiting for John’s reply. He knew the doctor was awake, stewing over something that was bothering him. Sherlock asked anyway; on the off chance that John wished to feign sleep as he often did when he wanted to be alone, but not wanting to hurt Sherlock’s feelings.

 

“Mm.” John replied, almost inaudibly, which the Detective took as a sign to step forward to the bed and sit down on the edge of it, folding his legs, clad in tailored slacks, beneath his lanky frame.

 

“You seemed…upset…tonight.” Sherlock began, and in response he felt John’s shoulder brush against his knee as the smaller man turned over with a groan. _Agitation._ Sherlock’s mind raced. _But over what?_  

 

“Mrs. Hudson has decided to let the people who arrived today stay with her downstairs.”

 

 

“I take it you do not like our new guests, Dr. Watson.” He heard an affronted noise, and John’s head whipped around so fast Sherlock saw two of the man.

 

“Dr. Watson? Why on _earth_ would you call me that,” He yelped, and Sherlock peered down his nose and smirked at him. _It had worked._ “And I’m a blooming idiot for falling for that, aren’t I?” John said, smiling a tad.

 

Sherlock pretended to mull it over. “Hm, only a little bit.” John laughed and pulled him closer by the waist, so that he could tuck his head under the younger man’s arm, haphazardly tossing the blanket over both their legs. Sherlock’s tight purple shirt smelled faintly of spicy, yet airy, cologne. John inhaled. “Well, no…I’m not too fond of that Goth-punk pretty boy making goo-goo eyes at your arse. Or, should I say _my_ arse?” He huffed. “But, the girl and the woman seemed to be alright enough.” _Oh, yes…her._ In his haste to reassure himself that John was no longer upset, he had forgotten to finish analyzing the data he had obtained. _Alright, start with the girl. She was his son’s age, born in North America…but the mother was from Brixton…so the father must have lived somewhere near Toronto, the city they had come from. She had injuries that hinted at severe trauma resulting from a car accident that seemingly should have killed her, as Hamish had pointed out, which annoyed John. Apparently, “that was rude.” Ah, Hamish had made him proud today, deducing everything about the younger girl and—NO. Do not get distract in praising your exceptional son! Well, Hamish pointed out everything he could deduce at the moment, and though the car accident was intriguing, it could most likely be explained due to a genetic mutation, or abnormality stemming from Sarah’s…origins._ That was the trickiest part. Not the fact that she was a clone, which he knew would one day be possible, but the means by which she was created. _How had they done it? How could HE do it? No, no…distractions again. Besides, John would never approve of him creating life in the makeshift chemistry lab in their kitchen._ John! John was still there next to him, providing pleasant warmth at his side.

 

“John, Sarah told me something very interesting just before I returned to the flat.” Sherlock said, urgently. John looked up at him, eyes widening as Sherlock’s tone roused him from his half-sleep. “She-she told me that she was a clone. And that her clone-sister was sick and she was worried about that, well, actually, that was merely a deduction on my part.” Sherlock rambled on, his quick words tripping out of his mouth as he got excited. “But, Oh God, John, she’s a clone! That’s incredible, and we must study—I mean help her. I can see that she is desperate. Perhaps we could offer her our services?” He tacked on hopefully.

 

“Oh, yea…because perhaps we can save this woman’s life with some deductions and an updated blog post.” John scoffed. Sherlock frowned, as this did not bode well. If John was being sarcastic, he was hiding his fear.

 

“John, I need to know your honest answer if we are to aid Sarah and her family,” Sherlock put extra emphasis on the word family, to sway his husband. “And that you believe me. This is what she told me, and I did not deduce that she was lying, or untrustworthy.”

 

The blogger sighed. “Good God…Let me sleep on it, alright? Who knows what strange government organizations could be involved with this girl, or her daughter, or _brother_.”

 

Sherlock nodded. John was cracking, and he would get to study Sarah in more depth tomorrow, he could feel it. John slowly stood, tugging his jumper and tee-shirt beneath over his head, folding them both neatly and putting them back in the drawer with a sigh. He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling out one leg, and then the other, as Sherlock watched with quiet eyes and a silent disposition. John put on his pajamas, and then crawled back to the bed.

 

“Are you going to sleep?” He asked his husband.

 

“Of course not.”

 

John sighed, that was Sherlock. “Well, at least stay for a little while…and hold me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No but seriously if you read this please comment and give feedback! 
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO! I AM LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO BETA IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST!


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> awkwardly short filler chapter in which Sarah has a mental breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh sorry for all these short, random chapters that are appearing. I'm actually trying to work my way up to the chapter with my big plot twist in it before the new season reveals things and ruins it, but i dont want to make it too soon so there's just awkward chapters in between. 
> 
>  
> 
> side note: DOES ANYONE EVEN READ THIS FIC ANYMORE??????

Sarah’s eyes pried themselves open slowly. She blinked twice, bleary in the glare of soft light coming in through the window. She turned over in the small bed, smiling at Kira. Except…Kira wasn’t there anymore. Sarah immediately woken up, thrashing around in the sheets and blankets crying out her daughter’s name in the unfamiliar surroundings.

 

“Kira!” Oh dammit, this can’t be happening. “ _Kira!_ ” She stared with wide eyes at the spot where her child’s sleeping form had once been. Oh no, not this. Anything but this, she could NOT lose Kira again.

 

Mrs. Hudson slammed open the door, her eyes wide as saucers with fear and shock. “Sarah, Sarah it’s alright! Calm DOWN, Sarah! Kira is fine!”

 

Sarah fell relief washing over the hot flames of adrenaline like cool water. As her breathing slowed she panted, “She-she is?”

 

Mrs. Hudson smiled at her. “Yes…she’s fine. She woke up about an hour ago, and I gave her a bite to eat. I even got her into the tub and changed for the day. I can’t imagine what you three have been through, but trust me. It’s all right now. You’re in good hands.”

 

Sarah wasn’t so sure, as Mrs. S had lied straight to her face about project LEEDA, and Mrs. Hudson was one of her old contacts. The last of her old contacts had tried to sell her and Kira off to the Prolethians. She would be wary always of these people. As she slumped out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, passing her brother drooling on the couch cushions. She petted his head as she moved past, and he murmured, “Mm…Sherlock.” sleepily. She smirked at him, rolling her eyes and sat down at Mrs. Hudson’s small kitchen table.

 

The elderly lady was bustling around, fetching her a cuppa and biscuits, as well as making her some toast. Sarah thanked her gratefully; she was too exhausted from their midnight journey to do anything herself. After she had eaten, quickly, she showered. Her brown hair tumbled down her back in wet waves, droplets dripping off like rain. She swallowed a lump in her throat. The last shower she was in was located in the bathroom of Rachel Duncan’s posh apartment complex, and she had been zip-tied and tortured before being saved by Helena, coved in a bloody wedding dress with the ever familiar gleam of insanity in her eyes. She murdered Rachel’s boy-toy monitor to save her “seestra”, seeming to have forgiven Sarah for attempting to kill her. Sarah thought she had succeeded. She moved, clutching the threadbare brown towel around her torso, to wipe steam away from the mirror. Her heart wrenched, stopping as she was hit with a wave of sudden fear. The face glaring back at her was not her own…it was Helena’s.

 

Sarah screeched into her pinched lips, falling backwards into the tub.

 

“Dear, are you okay?” came Mrs. Hudson’s anxious response to the crashing noise of her limbs flailing wildly against the porcelain.

 

“I-um…yea.” Sarah dared to gaze back again. Realizing it was just her imagination. She had escaped Helena once again. The bathroom was empty, and she was alone. She pressed a hand to her racing heart, cursing her stupidity. She reached across to unlock the doorknob with a Click! and gingerly stood on her leg, which were already bruising at the shins. Mrs. Hudson bustled in, nervously looking the clone up and down.

 

“My my…what’s happened to you?” She said nervously.

 

“I-nothing. Gave myself a fright, that’s all.” Sarah amended, but the woman was not to be satisfied.  She allowed her to pull out clothes and help her get dressed. Hudson brushed her hair and applied her makeup, even relenting and smudging the eyeliner. For all this, Sarah was grateful, no matter how unnecessary it was. As her feet were expertly laced into her boots, she stood, giving the landlady a hug before going to find Kira.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STILL LOOKING FOR A BETA!

**Author's Note:**

> So guys! Did you like it? Should I continue? This was just the prologue...but idk. Comment below! <3


End file.
